


The Dealership

by Kikileduc



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Being Idiots, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski are Soulmates, M/M, Mates, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mechanic Derek Hale, One Shot, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Pining Derek, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Polish Stiles Stilinski, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Returning Home, Sheriff Stilinski Knows About Werewolves, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Comes Back, Stiles Leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski Doesn't Know About Werewolves, Stiles Stilinski's Jeep's Name is Roscoe, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski, leads to, or does he?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 02:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13560933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikileduc/pseuds/Kikileduc
Summary: Derek is a mechanic in Beacon Hills and also the local werewolf alpha.Stiles is returning home after 15 years overseas. He just wants to get his mother's old Jeep running again.And, Peter owns a bar, and some dept.





	The Dealership

**Author's Note:**

> I bought a new car last week. It's a Jeep, but it's green, hypergreen as it's mentioned in this fic. Also owned the '92 black corvette just out of high school. Loved that car... it's also mentioned...
> 
>  
> 
> I wanted to write a fic where Stiles goes car shopping and Derek is the salesman, yeah... that didn't happen, at all but I think this is much better.
> 
>  
> 
> Also for those of you following One Mistake and Higher Ground. This is a busy weekend for me and I will not have a chance to update either until probably Tuesday night. I hope this little ditty can tie you over.

Derek came into the living room of the countryside house with red eyes searching madly about. His dark hair was a mess, and his beard was overdue for a trim, but that wasn’t what tipped the pack off that he was running behind… _again_. He was shirtless with loose fitting jeans hanging off his hips and on the verge of growling.

 

“Over here, grumpy wolf!” Erica called and tossed the mechanic’s shirt across the way. She smirked from over the top of a laundry basket which was currently overflowing with her dark pleather and barely covering crop tops.

 

“Start doing your own laundry and you’ll know where your clothes are!” Isaac muttered. He was sorting his own into more manageable piles. It was alarming that his scarfs out weighed his under garments!

 

“Ha! Why do you think he turned us, back it high school? He wanted minions…” Boyd laughed from his spot at the kitchen table. His own pile of solid-colored Henleys and jeans were already firmly pressed to his right. He was flipping through a paper and didn’t bother to look up when their disgruntled alpha stormed in.

 

Derek didn’t deny their claim, even though it was far from the truth. His uncle had raised havoc back then and it was soon followed by the alpha pack’s attempt at destruction… Derek explained the way of the wolf to his betas. It was a gift and they took it, what did it matter if they did more than their fair share of the chores? It’s not like they paid rent…

 

He glanced up and noticed the fact that his most fleeting of betas was missing.

 

“Where’s Scott?” He grunted.

 

Boyd shook his head and turned the page of his newspaper without explanation.

 

“Ah. He, ummm, he has a friend in town?!” Isaac muttered out, it was both a statement and question.

 

He glanced around for support from Erica. The blond bombshell gave him a look of incredulity. She would be of no help.

 

“Hunter?” Derek’s eyes flashed as he asked.

 

Scott had caused them all a lot of grief with his on again and off again relationship with the hunter’s daughter turned powerful huntress in her own right. But, they haven’t heard from any of the Argents since the betas returned from college.

 

“No, at least, I don’t think so, he just said— I think it’s code, but he called him Stiles?” Isaac tried for positive. “Doesn’t sound like a hunter, though?”

 

“What does a hunter sound like?” Derek raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

 

No one answered.

 

“I’m late.” He announced. “No hunters, here… remind him, understood.”

 

Derek grabbed his leather jacket from back of the sofa closest to the front door and left.

 

The betas waited until the roar of the Camaro’s engine died down as it sped down the dirt path.

 

“You better call him…” Erica warned Isaac.

 

“He’s not a hunter— how many hunters do you think Scott could possibly know anyway?” Isaac defended.

 

“Call him!” Boyd insisted.

 

Isaac rolled his eyes before reaching for his phone.

 

***

 

Scott couldn’t believe it. His best friend was back! When they were eight, Stiles’ mother died and his dad sent him to live with his grandfather in Poland while he recovered. Except, the sheriff’s drinking became worse, not better… And when the devastated man finally did hit rock bottom and go sober, it was Scott’s sophomore year of high school and all hell broke lose. He heard John telling his mom that he didn’t want to bring Stiles home when there were so many unsolved murders and threats from the FBI that he might loose his job…

 

Scott felt guilty using his Wolf hearing abilities to eavesdrop, but it was Stiles they were talking about and he hadn’t seen him in years… But, the sheriff was right Beacon Hills was far from a safe place. Scott was secretly a newly turned werewolf, a fact he was still reluctant to believe, himself. How could he expect Stiles to be accepting?

 

But, that was all in the past. Scott was under control now, Beacon Hills was safe again. And Stiles was returning!

 

Scott hopped on his bike and headed to the sheriff’s house for the first time in fifteen years…

 

Stiles was outside when he arrived. Or at least half of him was. His slim form was partially buried under his mother’s old blue Jeep.

 

“Stiles!” Scott shouted, extremely excited.

 

“Ouch!” Was his long time friend’s response as he hit his head on the Jeep’s undercarriage when he jumped.

 

The pale man wiggled his way free with a large, goofy smile on his face. Stiles’s caramel colored eyes met Scott’s darker ones for the first time in person since they were eight. Sure the boys had Skyped over the years, but they have never had the chance to visit as the Sheriff preferred going to his father’s country for the holidays. Scott dealt with Beacon Hell during his high school years and went off to college immediately afterwards; vet school. Stiles had lived in Poland until he was eighteen and has since spent his time traveling, all over the world, even a stint in New York, but this was his first trip back home… This reunion was a long time coming.

 

The two young adults stared at each other for a full minute. Scott looked like an older, broader, form of himself, crooked jaw and all. But while Stiles was still immune to the sun’s rays, and dotted with the occasional mole. Now, though, he sported two full sleeves of tattoos. The mix of tribal and art poked out of the collar of his wife beater, too. If Scott had to guess his friend’s entire torso was probably covered in them.

 

“Wow. Man, I knew you had ink, you showed me the moon’s depiction on your back, but… when did you get all of these?” Scott was mesmerized, taking in the artwork.

 

Stiles smirked. “Over the years…” His friend shrugged. His voice was deeper than it sounded on the phone when the two would chat late into the night.

 

“Well, looks nice man!” Scott gave his friend a lopsided smile.

 

And just like that, it was like no time had past and they were just Scott and Stiles again. They joked and laughed as they caught up in the sheriff’s kitchen. The house looked the same as Scott remembered, outdated furniture back in the day that was just ancient now…

 

Stiles hesitated as he went back to the fridge to offer a drink to his old friend.

 

“Ah, sorry man, I don’t keep any beers here, father’s on the wagon, as it were.” Stiles looked slightly embarrassed.

 

“It’s cool man, my friends actually run a local bar, we can…” Scott broke off mid sentence. The pack’s bar was well known amongst the supernatural community. You could find all sorts of unusual people in there, what would Stiles think of the place.

 

His friend sensed Scott’s hesitancy and helped out, “well, we can’t go anywhere, just yet.”

 

Scott tilted his head in confusion.

 

“Jeep won’t run. I’ve been working on it all morning, but uhh, it’s really old… and I don’t actually know what I’m doing.” Stiles shrugged and showed Scott his phone which had several google search tabs opened. “I don’t think I’ll fit on your bike, either.” He added.

 

“Oh, I know a guy for that too!” Scott said with too much enthusiasm. “He’s a real…. _Unique_ character.” He settled on.

 

“Oh, how so?” Stiles quirked an eyebrow, interested. “I’ve met some odd balls, trekking across Europe.”

 

“He’s… _different_ … quiet, kind of an asshole.” Scott grinned and checked his own device as it had just beeped.

 

It was Isaac and it warned him to keep his new friend away from the pack. Scott grimaced. The Allison saga wasn’t so easily forgotten, it would seem.

 

“Umm. On second thought, I think my guys is too… _rude_ , yeah, you’re better off taking it to a more established garage…” Scott fumbled with an excuse, causing Stiles to look at him with suspicion.

 

Stiles hummed, thoughtfully, but didn’t press the issue.

 

They spent the afternoon just catching up in the sheriff’s dining room. Scott couldn’t help but admit that it was nice, having his brother back.

 

***

 

Reluctantly, Scott had to meet the others at the bar that evening, as was tradition, and Stiles wasn’t exactly welcomed there, until he had a chance to thoroughly explain to his alpha that his friend was in no way, shape, or form a hunter or would cause the pack any harm whatsoever. Coming from him, though, it would be a tough sell. He just wasn’t considered a good judge of character as he looked for the positive aspects in everyone, even those less than deserving.

 

Stiles understood, however, and vowed to start calling tow companies and mechanic shops until he had the best deal, for his precious baby.

 

“I’ve been waiting seven years for this car… I refused to buy one, because I wanted my mother’s Jeep to be my first… Can you imagine how much faster I would have made it across the continent if I wasn’t roughing it?” Stiles smiled, fondly at the memories.

 

Scott looked dumbfounded.

 

“See ya tomorrow then?” Scott asked.

 

“Yeah, man!” Stiles agreed. “Tomorrow.”

 

***

 

Derek was covered in sweat and oil. His pristine work shirt from that morning was no more. But he liked it. The smell of a job well done, and as he had spent the majority of the day rebuilding a ’92 corvette, it was certainly worth it. The shop was officially closed as of ten minutes ago, but he took his time putting away his tools and things. Derek hated when the other mechanics misplaced the equipment…

 

Of course the lights were still on in the building and his familiar Camaro was parked out front. So, he wasn’t too surprised when the tow truck came barreling in. He was taken aback, a little, when a scrawny kid jumped out of the passenger seat before the truck had finished pulling into the lot, however. He was small, but well defined and covered in tattoos. The dark ink was a stark contrast against his flesh. And those large eyes! Derek found himself staring from the bay, before he remembered that he was the only one at the shop and also they were closed.

 

“I’m so glad I caught you guys before you were done for the day!” The honey-eyed kid said as he jaunted over.

 

“Err.” Derek wasn’t the one who usually dealt with customers. They had the sales team for that. He worked in the garage where it was just him and the engines and occasional coworker who respected his quiet demeanor.

 

“I, uhh, just wanted to get this dropped off.” He indicated the beat up, Cameo Blue Jeep that was still attached to the tow. It was vintage, he’d half to give the customer credit there, but the rust bucket looked like it was just sitting in a garage for years; he’s pretty sure there were cobwebs behind the windshield… and it didn’t even have a passenger door.

 

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. The tow truck driver seemed to agree with his customer’s insanity, from the knowing look he shot his way.

 

“So do we go inside…” The tattooed man nodded towards the empty building. “Discuss prices?”

 

As the newcomers approached, Derek was hit with an entirely new scent. Sweet like chocolate and yet somehow also savory and… spicy. It was enticing. Derek was sure his nostrils were flaring as he salivated around his fangs.

 

Fangs. In public. He needed to control himself.

 

“I… I don’t do that part…” Derek admitted, sheepishly. He stepped back to put more distance between himself and the two men.

 

They didn’t seem to pick up on his hesitancy.

 

“It’s not worth it…” Derek continued, trying to discourage them further. It was taking everything he had to not wolf out right then and there. “You’d be better off buying a new one.” He suggested.

 

“I want this one.” The customer replied stubbornly. “Who do I have to talk to, then?” He eyed Derek appreciatively, but continued to try to look past to the offices in the building.

 

“Closed.” Derek grunted. “Leave it, come back in the morning.” He grabbed a nearby rag to wipe the oil from his covered hands. It did little to improve his appearance as the rag was grimy in its own right. He wasn’t sure why that suddenly mattered to him.

The intrusive customer looked more thoroughly at Derek. It made the alpha feel small, like he was being scrutinized and found wanting. The two looked at each other.

 

“Eh’ hem.” The tow truck driver cleared his throat, impatiently.

 

Derek pulled back, not even aware that he was subconsciously leaning in. The Jeep owner blushed and looked down while fidgeting with his car keys.

 

“Yeah… yeah, I’ll do that.” He agreed. “Ummm, can we back it up, over there?”

 

Together the three men pushed it into an unused spot. Derek took the keys. He couldn’t wait until they left so he could breathe freely again. How was it possible for this complete stranger to effect him so? He didn’t want to dwell on it, not until his lungs tasted fresh air once again.

 

As soon as the two were gone, however, Derek found himself longing for that incredible sensation once more. That scent, that grin, his pointy nose. He felt empty, now, without it. Like he was missing something that he didn’t even know he needed until it was served up on a platter at his job after hours… And, he was so rude to the mysterious guy… He could kick himself.

 

***

 

Stiles thanked the driver for offering him a ride home, but denied the man and opted to walk instead. He was use to walking after all. And he now had a lot to think about, too. That mechanic…

 

It made the wolf, his guardian, the shaman had said when he sat for hours with his back exposed for that particular patch of ink, stir. It often did when he was on a particularly dangerous mission, but this was different. For one thing, he was fairly sure the man wasn’t trying to kill him, not that he could, not with Stiles’s skills. But, for another, when his wolf warned him of danger it was obvious, it burned, impossible to ignore. This felt more like a nagging feeling. Like he wasn’t whole and didn’t know it until he met that which made him so.

 

He was thankful for the early setting sun that kept his reddening cheeks hidden at the thought.

 

He passed a fairly busy looking pub. A drink, he needed a drink, one issue at a time, and fixing his mother’s Jeep was priority number one. His lack of a love life and the fact that he now thought his tattoos were pushing him to break his dry spell was something he could think about another time, like never…

 

The establishment was full of warm, welcoming colors and had two beautiful ladies running the bar. A wild haired blond and fierce looking brunette. The latter was obviously very pregnant, but despite that, Stiles was sure they could handle their own against even the most rowdy of patrons. They just gave off that ‘don’t mess with us vibe.’

 

This was a good thing though, because aside from sizing up the place, Stile immediately noticed the troll at the corner table. He might be wearing a balaclava and jacket, but that slightly blue skin tone was visible and once you learn to recognize it for what it meant, unavoidable. The humans probably assumed he was sickly. Stiles subconsciously felt for his knife. He was always armed, but it never hurt to double check.

 

As he continued to take in the place, he spotted an old friend talking animatedly with a curly haired guest at the counter. Lydia was nothing more than a ridiculous crush when they both lived here back in elementary school. But he moved away and she did too not long into her high school career. She had witnessed a strange animal attack and her father used that as leverage for her to go live with him. She hated it at first and then heard that her boyfriend had tragically died on the lacrosse field, and was more okay with the adjustment.

 

She reunited with Stiles in Paris. He was looking for information on a local pixie and instead found Lydia, she had just discover that she was a born banshee, and all that came to mean. Stiles recognized the strawberry blond hair instantly, and blurted out her name. Both Lydia and the seer they were meeting with thought Stiles might have been blessed with a gift of insight. They were astounded when he reveal that he was just a spark and that they grew up together.

 

“Just a spark?” The seer responded with a raised eyebrow.

 

Stiles found his pixie, asked her to leave the city as the ancient buildings housed spirits that didn’t take too kindly to being disturbed. The local wiccans were welcomed there as their kind had help build the place, but they didn’t take well to outsiders. Fortunately, the pixie was just passing through and more than agreeable. That had been an easy assignment. Fast pay.

 

He tried to keep in touch with Lydia since, but in his line of work making appointments, even for a phone call, could prove to be difficult.

 

“Lyds!” He said dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air. “Fancy meeting you here!”

 

The redhead’s face split into a wide grin. “Stiles?!”

 

“The one and only.” He replied with a wink as he took the free space to her right. “What brings you back here, after everything…”

 

“Ohhh, oh!” Lydia exclaimed. “I learned so much since we last talk… what has it been? Over a year! I haven’t changed my number…”

 

Stiles shuffled his feet, guiltily. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m a horrible friend. Just the worst, really… but the hometown cometh?”

 

Lydia playfully slugged him. “I’ve been back since Christmas, when did you stroll in?”

 

“It’s been… 36 hours…” Stiles replied after he checked his watch.

 

“Did I hear you say Stiles!?” Scott emerged from the back room pulling a keg up.

 

Another, taller, man was right behind him with two more. Even with all those muscles, Stiles doubted that task was possible if those kegs were full. The stranger didn’t even appear phased.

 

Stiles blinked away his confusion and focused more on his best friend who had left all too soon earlier that day.

 

“Hey bro, you work here?” Stiles asked curiously.

 

“No, owed him, I guess you could say…” he glanced at the curly haired man on Lydia’s left. He wore an off putting scarf that clashed with the pattern on his shirt.

 

“Name’s Isaac. Isaac Lahey. I think you went to our elementary school, sheriff’s kid, right?” The man said to Stiles and offered a hand.

 

Lydia pulled them both closer as she placed a hand on their shoulders. The brunette gave her a narrow eyed stare accompanied by a raised eyebrow. The look reminded him of the mechanic’s when he hopped out of the tow truck.

 

“That beautiful, stunning, glowing radiant, goddess is Cora. Isaac’s her, uhh baby daddy. And that’s Erica and Boyd. They all work here, Cora’s uncle owns the place… I suppose you remember Scott, but you guys were like glued at the hip back in the day!”

 

“Don’t pretend you remember me now, it took you half an hour in Paris, when you finally blurted out that I was the spazz…” Stiles joked.

 

“What… what are you doing here?” Scott asked nervously as he glared at the door.

 

Something must have clicked for everyone else that Stiles and Lydia wasn’t privy to. They all glanced between each other with worry and Isaac actually face palmed.

 

“Scott!” Erica hissed.

 

“I didn’t invite him!” Scott replied disgruntled. If the two thought they were talking privately, they weren’t.

 

Stiles bit his tongue. This was something he could ask Scott about later. He didn’t have much time to worry about it because everyone perked up and peered towards the front doors. Stiles and Lydia followed their line of sight and looked at the wooden door, it remained shut.

 

“Ahh, time to go!” Scott shouted and hopped over the bar in a impressive display that caused even more unanswered questions. “Lets go!” He grabbed Stiles arm, the force made him spin in his seat.

 

Lydia looked surprised, but Scott was so fast Stiles was out the back door before either one of them had a moment to protest.

 

“Dude! I wanted a drink, man.” Stiles finally said, as they made their way through the gravel of the back parking lot. “Are… are we walking home!?”

 

Scott opened his mouth to reply but couldn’t form a reasonable excuse.

 

***

 

Derek made a note for the morning crew with the blue Jeep’s car keys, explaining that the owner would be returning to talk details. He finished cleaning up his work bench, and finally called it quits for the day. The entire time he thought about that guy…

 

The pack would be at Peter’s bar for the evening. Perhaps a little wolfsbane infused tequila was exactly what he needed to chase away that enduring smell…

 

Wrong. That was the worst idea. The bar was saturated in the enticing scent. Derek was sure his eyes flashed red on entering. His betas must have picked up on his struggle because they all cowered a bit, even his sister who was the most uncooperative amongst them.

 

“It… smells.” Derek grumbled.

 

Lydia looked up at the alpha wolf with concern. Isaac sniffed the air noticeably. Boyd shook his head in disagreement. Cora rolled her eyes.

 

Erica popped a hip as she asked. “What on earth are you talking about?”

 

Derek glanced around. “It’s so… I don’t know… I can’t get it out of my head, it’s overwhelming.” He admitted, with clenched fists.

 

Lydia turned to the group and leaned in. “Do you think it’s, I don’t know, a potion or curse or something?”

 

Isaac’s eyes lit up but, Cora huffed annoyed.

 

“Do you like it? Is it sweet and warm? Does it make you feel… safe?” She asked and subconsciously held a hand out over the bar that Isaac took on instinct.

 

“Oh!” Boyd said as he placed his arm across Erica’s lower back.

 

Derek looked at his sister with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

 

“Derek!” She hissed and poured him a shot of his favorite brand. “You met your mate!”

 

“Mate?” Derek didn’t mean to sound in denial, but after Paige and Kate and Jennifer, he just assumed there wasn’t one for him. “Really?”

 

“Oh, wolf mate?” Lydia squealed excitedly. “Jackson told me about that when he introduced Ethan to me! Are they here, who else is a wolf?” She nudged the alpha.

 

Derek glanced around looking for the Jeep owner who wasn’t there. He followed the scent to the back door.

 

Boyd noticed where he was looking. “Scott umm, had to leave.”

 

Scott went with him? His… mate? Who was male? And wasn’t a wolf, but that could be dealt with later. Derek’s eyes flashed again, but this time in jealousy.

 

“Fangs!” Cora mouthed.

 

“Where did they go?” Derek growled out.

 

“They?” Erica tried and failed to sound sincere.

 

Derek gave her a knowing stare.

 

“Fine.” Isaac caved. “Scott’s friend from out if town was here, but he made him leave, poor bloke didn’t even get a beer…”

 

“Where did they go?” Derek repeated.

 

Boyd pointed unnecessarily towards the back door. Isaac whipped out his phone to give Scott a warning text.

 

Derek downed his shot and spun on his seat to head out the door and follow his nose.

 

He made it over a block before the incredible scent disappeared on the edge of the street. They must have called for an Uber. Derek took out his phone and called Scott. It went to voice mail.

 

He didn’t return to the bar, opting instead, to head home.

 

***

 

Scott panicked.

 

He had to get Stiles out of that bar and as far away from Derek as he could. Naturally, his friend had no clue as to why and was starting to properly protest. So, Scott did the only logical thing, he set up an Uber and took Stiles home to play video games.

 

Isaac warned him almost instantly that Derek knew the stranger was there. Scott set his phone to silence and hoped that his alpha wouldn’t be too mad when they finally did speak about that fact. It really was an accident.

 

Late night Mario Kart was fun and much needed. Stiles’s skill hadn’t lacked at all during his time away from the system and Scott had only improved since their eight year old days. They laughed about what fun it would be to play in modern graphics but then quickly vowed to stick with the classic.

 

***

 

It was almost morning by the time they finally called it quits and the sheriff knocked hesitantly on his son’s bedroom door. It was odd to consider the room belonged to his twenty three year old kid, now. The boys were sprawled out on the mattress in a tangle heap of limbs.

 

“Stiles… where’s your mom’s car?” He asked his son.

 

Stiles quickly explained its current location.

 

“I’ll stop by on my way back in to work, you guys get some rest!” His father graciously offered, and really who was Stiles to argue?

 

Although a weight settled in the pit of his stomach at the words… He wouldn’t admit it, but a part of him really wanted to see that scruffy mechanic again.

 

***

 

Derek was the first one up the following morning. He immediately noticed the lack of Scott’s heartbeat and checked his phone. The beta didn’t respond back, yet. He was so definitely going to get extra laps next training session!

 

He rushed his way through his morning routine and cringed internally when he noticed the pile of wrinkly work shirts. Erica would have to be band from his laundry, but then again, she probably did a deplorable job of it on purpose. If only he could get Cora to help the others, as she was taught expertly by their mother just like him, but she seemed to wiggle out of most group bonding activities when they were in fact just house hold necessities and somehow managed to always have clean clothes, he’d have to ask her how she does it… In the mean time, he’d have to settle for wrinkles as he didn’t want to miss the Jeep owners return.

 

He was disappointed. Upon walking in, the only customer was the sheriff. He ignored the man’s conversation. Derek had tried to stay clear from him since his arrest and subsequent release all those years ago. But occasionally, back then, the monster of the week would choose the station as its target an they had met several more times. He didn’t dislike the man, but wasn’t sure about him, he always looked at Derek like he… knew. But humans weren’t met to know about the fairytale creatures that go bump in the night.

 

Moments later the officer was gone and his manager came in the back hollering. “I know it’s garbage and a waste of time, but the Jeep owner’s paying top dollar for his vintage repairs, that thing is from 1980, it’s going to be difficult to stay away from aftermarket, but he wants as close to correct as possible. Three speed manual… I hope that gear box is salvageable…”

 

The man said the last bit to himself and missed the way Derek’s face fell. He was hoping to see the young adult again… How early did he get there that morning? Didn’t he know how to read a sign? Was the Jeep’s owner insistent on only coming in when they were closed?

 

His day was long, not only because he came to work five hours early, but also the light blue rust bucket held a trace scent of its owner. If Derek wasn’t careful his coworkers would get more of a fright than they intended. They were not aware of his supernatural status, even if half the customers he brought in were.

 

He didn’t argue when his manager sent him home after lunch.

 

***

 

Stiles was grateful, he really was, to have so much bro time after their devastating long years apart, but he was distracted all morning as he thought about his precious vehicle and who was working on it. That pang in his gut never did cease from the night before when he met the mechanic.

 

Scott finally excused himself midday, claiming Dr. Deaton, his boss, wouldn’t except friendship bonding as a reasonable excuse to be late. Who was Stiles to argue? They did hug good bye an excessive number of times. They would have to work on getting that number down. Five, five seemed reasonable going forward. Scott told him his mother wanted to see him so Stiles arranged a dinner for both him and his dad at the McCalls that evening.

 

As soon as his tan friend left, Stiles started his walk to the auto shop. He enjoyed the fresh air, it gave him time to think and scheme. He was like that, always considering multiple scenarios, it was one of the things that made him such a valuable freelancer. His ability to shift the world around him to his whim was another factor.

 

Before he knew it he arrived at the brick building. Anticipation bubbled up inside of him and he found himself willing the wolf on his back to lay down. What was up with his little guardian lately, anyways?

 

The place was far from empty, but the person he wanted to see wasn’t there. Stiles stayed for a couple of hours anyways. He liked seeing his mother’s beloved car looking better. It was already cleaner and even though he cringed when he saw it’s engine laid out meticulously on an abandoned bench. He knew whoever had taken the time to do so, did it with precision. The parts were a equal distance apart and grouped by their functions…

 

He made his way to Scott’s childhood home soon after, thankful for the plaid over shirt he donned that morning as the wind had picked up a bit. But also, he was a little apprehensive about the nurse judging him by his tattoos. He knew he had punkish vibe sometimes, especially when his hair did what it wanted on days like today. He stopped to buy her flowers. Hopefully the gesture will reassure his other mom.

 

He need not worry. Mrs. McCall was as warm and friendly as ever as she greeted him. And dinner was great! Everyone talked about their most recent years and really seemed to enjoy the stories Stiles could share about his journey. So many were not human dinner table acceptable.

 

Scott’s phone went crazy about halfway through, and that was their only interruption. He scrambled to check it and after a brief moment in which he physically went three shades lighter, his friend turned off the device and return to the table. Dessert took them well into the late night hours…

 

***

 

Derek was thankful that being dismissed so early would mean he would have a chance to have that much needed conversation with Scott. But the beta wasn’t home… again! Boyd told him he had to work. He didn’t show afterwards either, however and Derek was ready to start ripping throats out.

 

The alpha waited until after six before he started sending a string of threatening messages. Scott would be running until his legs fell off come Sunday morning!

 

The beta still didn’t respond. Cora was a little concerned, but Isaac came home and assured his girlfriend and everyone else that Scott was having dinner at his moms. Derek felt a twinge of guilt over the last threat he had sent.

 

“So, alpha!” Erica started brightly, trying to change the subject. “Any luck finding that mate of yours?”

 

She was genuinely asking. None of his pack were expecting Derek to run from the bar full of customers once he learned that one of them was his mate. But, Derek did do things the hard way. They had just all agreed that it would be both funny and horrible if it turned out to be the troll…

 

***

 

Stiles hoped that he would catch the bearded mechanic the next day so he went to the shop as soon as it opened. He was disappointed.

 

It would be nice to chat with Lydia about it, but after Scott’s urging and insistence that the place she frequented was infested with E Coli and other various diseases he decided not to return to the friendly bar.

 

Lydia met him, instead, at a coffee shop two days later. The banshee was less than helpful and rather confused on why Stiles couldn’t return to the Den. She assured him the place as clean of a bar as you’d expect. The owner sought for perfection.

 

***

 

Derek slept in as he didn’t start until after noon. Once he entered, the scent was stronger. His… mate(?) must have been here. He raced through the offices like a wild man, but to no avail. His boss looked concerned.

 

The back and fourth continued. And so did Scott’s disappearing act. Until finally Derek cornered the beta.

 

“Where is your friend?” Derek hissed out between gritted teeth. He wasn’t one for playing it coy.

 

Scott shifted uncomfortably and tried to fake innocence. It didn’t work and before he knew it, he admitted that Stiles was having coffee with Lydia. Derek took a moment to reign back his claws before heading to the town’s only suitable coffee establishment.

 

***

 

Stiles had to excuse himself from his conversation with the redhead. He felt terribly rude to do so, but his prime objective had just unknowingly walked in to order a black and white mocha. Stiles studied his targets thoroughly, he recognized the fitted jeans and tight V-neck tee combo. As if to ensure this was the wolf he was sent to find, the jeans sported an Armani tag. He’d be willing to bet the plain looking shirt did as well. The man looked young for his years, but born shifters usually did. It was nothing to do with their biology, more like the old families were blessed with good looks.

 

Stiles jumped back in line behind the man and ordered a biscotti. Lydia accepted the treat as payment for him excusing himself as soon as the wolf left with his beverage in hand.

 

They made it two blocks before the arrogant wolf turned on his heels.

 

“Following me, Spark?” He asked with a dangerous eyebrow raise.

 

That was knew. Most people in the know still had no clue what Stiles was. And, if they did sense something, they never got it right… This one wasn’t to be taken lightly.

 

Stiles didn’t bother with a response as he trapped the wolf in a ash circle. The black powder flew high in the air and looked like dust scattering and nothing more. The illusion paid off as the presumed dangerous shifter in front of him smirked. But, as the powder landed it snapped together forming a tight circle around the unsuspecting victim. It was Stiles’s turn to flash a grin.

 

***

 

Lydia was sipping her coffee as Scott had said when he arrived. She was obviously alone, however, and she smiled and waved a friendly hand at the intimidating looking alpha.

 

“Where is…” Derek didn’t have to finish that sentence. He smelled the boy, but he also smelled his uncle who had been absent for months, and both scents were fresh and led outside.

 

Derek pursued and ignored the way his entire pack trailed after him. Lydia even joined them, to go coffee cup in hand and all.

 

Derek rounded the turn just as his uncle’s face fell as he realized he was trapped in a Mountain Ash circle. To everyone’s surprise the person who did the trapping was non other than the Jeep’s owner. The pale kid now wore a light colored long sleeve that did little to hide his ink. Especially as some of the bands were now glowing a vivid lime green.

 

Several people spoke at once.

 

“Stiles!” Scott shouted in an awed voice. It was obvious he had no idea his friend was so… aware.

 

“Mountain ash?” Lydia asked, airily.

 

“He IS a hunter!” Erica screeched!

 

While Boyd patted Derek on the shoulder saying he was right.

 

Cora slugged Scott hard, in the arm and scowled at him while Isaac shook his head.

 

Peter broke into a grin again and looked at his nephew. “You’ve done it now, Spark, the whole pack, alpha and all…”

 

Stiles and Derek, however just stared at each other and tuned the world around them out.

 

Eventually, as the distance between them was miraculously closing Derek blurted out, “you really should buy a new car…”

 

Stiles stared back with his mouth hanging slightly open and shook his head.

 

Everyone was confused as Peter attempted to remind them all he was still trapped.

 

Stiles ignored him. Choosing instead to reach a tentative hand out. Derek copied the gesture and as soon as their skin touched they knew. It was as if this entire time the world was only spinning at half speed and it suddenly sped up and brought with it newer brighter colors; clarity.

 

Derek found his mate. Stiles knew he wouldn’t be able to move on and leave this place behind.

 

“Ah’ hem!” Lydia broke the silence. “What the hell is going on?”

 

“He’s a hunter Derek, just like you thought!” Erica repeated.

 

“No,” Derek disagreed. “He’s my… mate.”

 

“Mate?” Both Stiles and Peter sounded disbelieving.

 

“Is that a thing? A shifter thing, maybe?” Stiles asked.

 

“Ah hello!” Peter scuffed. “He trapped me!”

 

“It’s a werewolf thing.” Derek informed him, speaking softly.

 

They continued to explain to Stiles that they were a pack. He didn’t seem surprised, not even when Scott flashed his golden beta eyes. Stiles explained that his grandfather raised him to believe in the myths and legends. When he turned sixteen his spark manifested and the old man couldn’t have been more proud. He had always suspected his son’s wife held potential and wasn’t even shocked to see his grandson bend nature to his will.

 

Stiles traveled as soon as he graduated. Originally it was to find others like him. His mother had no living relatives, so he met with a sorcerer who pointed him towards a druid and so forth. Eventually, he started helping people out. A village was plagued by fairies. That one was an easy fix. Things became more serious and he used his… skills. A wendigo murdered a little girl… He made a name for himself. He was highly sort after for supernatural disturbances. And, he still hadn’t found his purpose, his people.

 

“So you’re not a hunter!” Isaac questioned, hopeful.

 

Scott bobbed his head beside him imploring his friend to agree.

 

“Oh no, if you give me a decent reason to, you better believe I’ll hunt your ass.” Stiles rounded on Peter.

 

The older beta’s eyes widened. “I’ve heard of you!” He accused. “You’re Red!”

 

Stiles cringed at the nickname he had earned. It involved some vampires and a lot of their hoarded supply of blood… He started to wear red hoodies while on more dangerous missions afterwards, to hide the staining crimson liquid.

 

“What reason do you have to trap me?” Peter continued.

 

The entire pack looked in agreement with the question.

 

Stiles crossed his arms. “Does the Aungulo pack ring any bells?” He asked the man trapped in his circle.

 

Peter stilled. “What… what do they want?”

 

It was unusual for the cocky, older wolf to falter.

 

Derek narrowed his eyes. “Yes, what do they want?”

 

“Repayment.” Stiles said uncrossing his arm. “You owe them, roughly 500,000.”

 

“What I only borrowed half of that, to get the bar running… after the issues with the deadpool…” He admitted.

 

“Which you were behind!” Cora accused.

 

“Interest.” Stiles shrugged. “You’ve been avoiding them and New York, for sometime.”

 

“He’ll pay it.” Derek muttered.

 

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but closed it promptly afterwards at the look his alpha had shot him.

 

“I like the Aungulo pack, they sheltered us after the fire.” He announced. “He’ll pay it.” He said to Stiles again. The two were still standing unusually close allowing their palms to grace each other’s.

 

The pack understood. Derek rarely mentioned his older sister. And, all the fight had left Peter. Stiles reluctantly waved a hand and the ash line bundled itself up into a neat little ball and returned to his pocket. He gave Peter a warning look that was mirrored by the alpha.

 

Then he turned his attention back to Derek. “So, mate?”

 

***

 

Derek wanted to do things right and invited Stiles out on a proper date. He was nervous as he filtered through his clothes looking for something appropriate. The betas would disapprove of the mess he was making in the laundry room, but he couldn’t help it. No one had ever made him feel so… off kilter. He just had to look his best.

 

Cora smiled from the doorway, knowingly. “Here, wear this.” She held up a dark set of jeans and pressed white shirt. “It will look nice with your jacket.” She continued.

 

Derek quirked an eyebrow. How did she do it? Her never ending supplies of cleaned clothes?

 

“I have a dry cleaners!” She huffed, annoyed that her secret was out.

 

Derek thanked her.

 

He drove around the block of the sheriff’s house an extra time as he didn’t want to be too early. He still couldn’t believe that his mate turned out to be the son of the officer that arrested him for the murder of his sister… Small world.

 

Eventually he parked his car next to the cruiser and thought idly to himself that he could get used to seeing it there.

 

***

 

Stiles messed with his hair again. He was… nervous. He didn’t do apprehension anymore, somehow after knocking out a were-lion with a baseball bat, you learn to let the worried-filled anticipation feeling go… But, Derek was different. This was different.

 

His wolf tattoo had a warm, reassuring presence. He smiled as he thought about the day the shaman added his little friend to his back. Stiles didn’t know what his guardian would look like and he was pleased when he saw the large and shaggy looking black wolf howling under the beautifully lit moon. It made so much more sense now, however.

 

He was ready early and impatiently waiting in his dad’s kitchen.

 

***

 

The sheriff laughed at his son’s fidgetiness but was thankful to have this moment. He had missed so much with his son growing up in Poland. This was… nice.

 

The doorbell rang. The sheriff answered and his face fell. Hale? His son’s date had to be the alpha of the local werewolf pack? Well, they had caused significantly less damage in recent years, for that he was grateful and he didn’t miss the way both of them lit up upon seeing each other. Derek cleared his throat and promised to have Stiles home at a reasonable hour.

 

His son was twenty three. He could come home when ever he liked. But John didn’t bother to correct the man, choosing instead to give him a warning glare.

 

***

 

Derek had a plan for this date, their first date. He didn’t want to do dinner and the movies or other cliché places. No. He had a plan. Stiles had no idea.

 

They pulled into the Jeep dealership. Derek glanced nervously at his passenger. He didn’t say anything when they entered. He smirked knowing that Stiles was insistent on keeping his car, his mother’s car as Scott had told him. The passed by rows and rows of shined new vehicles and Derek was pleased to see the newer models were in fact catching his date’s eye. They parked at the front entrance.

 

“I have to tell you,” Stiles turned to him to say. “No matter how many cars you plan on buying me, I still want that ‘rust bucket’!”

 

Derek didn’t respond and only went around the vehicle to let his passenger out only to find that stiles was perfectly capable of using a door himself. They went inside and occupied themselves looking at the floor models. Derek noticed the way the younger man’s eyes lingered on the Hypergreen Renegade.

 

“Ah, Mr. Hale!” A businessman said as he approached. “We’re ready for you!” He led both of them down a series of halls that ended up in the service bay.

 

And there it was. His mother’s 1980 Jeep CJ5 in Cameo Blue. Stiles looked ready to tear up.

 

He turned to Derek and exclaimed, “you fixed it! You really did it!”

 

“Not quite.” Derek admitted. “I had to pull some strings, it was difficult getting the factory door, hence the dealership.” He gestured around and they noticed the businessman had left them. It was just the two of them in the garage; a perfect mix between Stiles’s sweet scent and motor oil. “But, I saved the best for last… want to learn how to rebuild a vintage engine?” Derek pointed at the work bench where all the vehicle’s parts laid in perfect rows.

 

Stiles beamed. And then, with out thought he leaned in for a kiss. A kiss that was filled with emotions, as the gesture, what his… mate did for him, was overwhelming, but also it held so much more. A promise of a future. Derek returned it.

 

And, as the two broke apart they stared at each other for much longer than what would be deemed normal. But, neither one cared.

 

“Scott is going to run so many laps tomorrow!” Derek chuckled as he broke the silence eventually.

 

“Oh? Why is that… alpha?” Stiles asked but he said the older man’s pack position in a much more sultry tone. He had never heard the word spoken like that, he couldn’t wait to hear it again.

 

“He kept you from me!” Derek murmured.

 

“Oh!” Stiles squealed. “Well, then, make it double.” He added evilly.

 

They worked on the Jeep until well past dinner hours and even order Chinese food that the very confused man had to deliver to the closed dealership.

 

***

 

Stiles sat there joking and laughing and thinking that maybe this was where he was meant to be. Maybe he didn’t have to find other Sparks. Maybe what he needed was a pack of wolves and their alpha. His… mate.

 

He glanced at Derek who gave him a sly smile from the other side of the car. Yeah, this could definitely be where he belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Commenting! And Kudos! You are all the best!


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